


Desperate Times (Or Something Like That)

by smuttyfox (Thalius)



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9188126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/smuttyfox
Summary: After zombies and cursed gold and a whole lot of destroyed filming equipment, Elena could use a break from work, and Nathan Drake more than fit the bill.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to [@jostenneil](https://jostenneil.com/) on tumblr for helping me edit this 4.6k beast of a one-shot!
> 
> This is... pretty much just pure OTP fluff and some smut with mild continuity from some other one-shots in In Between the Action (which I have not forgotten about). Enjoy!

After a really long shower and even longer nap in a tavern somewhere in Costa Rica, Elena ventured out of her rented room that afternoon.

A glance at her watch told her she'd spent about twenty-six hours sleeping or simply sprawled out in bed, too tired to move but too restless to fully sleep. Now, though, she felt pretty good—although her story was sitting at the bottom of a canyon in Panama, the Spanish gold Sully and Drake had cut her in on was decent recompense.

_I still have no clue what the hell I'm going to tell my producer._

Not the truth, of course, unless she wanted to ensure she never got another signing for an _Uncharted_ episode. She still had a hard time believing the last seventy-two hours herself.

"Hey, Elena!"

She looked down over the small landing of the second floor of the inn to see Sully and Nate sitting in a booth near the back—there was also a woman sitting with them, someone Elena vaguely recognised as the owner of the bar.

She waved and headed down the steps, wincing at the movement—maybe she wasn't at one hundred percent just yet. The bruises covering most of her body made even walking a chore.

"Hey," she murmured, slipping into the booth beside Nate.

"I thought you'd slipped into a coma," Nate said by way of greeting. "Spent a whole day up there."

"Yeah well, getting sh—" She looked up suddenly at the bar owner, realising that she probably shouldn't finish her sentence about guns and mercenaries and cursed gold.

Sully waved her off, guessing her thoughts. "Marisola's an old friend. Heard crazier shit than that."

She raised a brow. "Crazier than that? Really? Sir Francis Drake's adventure isn't crazy enough for you?"

"Maybe like a top twenty," Nate said casually. He leaned back and tossed his arm over the back of the booth. His fingers idly brushed her shoulder as he did so, but either he didn't notice or didn't care— _or he did it on purpose._ _ **That**_ _I can work with._

She rolled her eyes and stopped thinking about Nate's casual contact for the moment. "You're both insane." She rubbed a hand over her face and leaned on her elbows, sighing.

"What would you like, _señorita?"_ Marisola asked, shimmying her way out of the booth seat.

"Oh." Elena hummed into her fingers and looked up. "Um. Coffee. Biggest cup you have."

The woman laughed. "Coming right up."

"Thank you," she called to Marisola as she disappeared behind the counter. Elena looked up from her hands again at the two guys. "You three seem friendly."

"Known her a long time," Sully replied smoothly. "Just catching up." She knew it was a lie—they were probably hashing out some illegal deal, but she decided not to pry. She didn't need any more excitement in her life at the moment. "So, what's next for you, sweetheart?"

"Oh gosh, I don't know." She sighed and sat back, her hair bun bumping into Nate's arm. The guy seemed to not take personal space very seriously. "I have to call my producer and tell him… something."

"I'm sorry about your camera," Nate cut in, his face losing its easy humour for a moment. "You got some good footage."

"I think it's for the best." She hopes that if she said it enough times she'd really believe it. "Even if people _did_ believe us about those weird zombie things, putting that out to the public would probably start a witch hunt for El Dorado; or worse, government action." She shrugged. "I like to keep my episodes a bit less conspiracy-theory than that."

Nate laughed. "Well, we can still find you some old ruins to film. You can more than afford a new camera with your cut."

Elena grinned. "Oh yeah. My other one was a few years old—I'm definitely upgrading." She felt a buzzing in her pocket and reached for her phone, seeing that her producer was calling. "Shit."

"I could talk to him," Nate offered, and she shook her head.

"Yeah, the guy who conned us and left me at the dock. No way, buddy. Hey, Luiz!" she said into her phone, interrupting what was sure to be a lot of back-peddling and excuses from Drake. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay. No, really. Yeah. The reception was pretty ba—oh. Um. No. Yeah, no, I didn't. About that…."

* * *

A forty-five minute conversation with her producer that thankfully never escalated into screaming left her mentally taxed. Luiz was mostly relieved she wasn't dead, but the rest of him was angry about the destroyed equipment and had more than a few choice words for the credibility and overall competency of their funders.

When she finally calmed him down enough to get some rational conversation in, she told him she would be using up her vacation days to stay in Costa Rica and would head back to the States sometime next week. Right now she needed to sort out what the hell she'd do next—after a few nights of expensive alcohol and food, that is.

When she ended the call standing outside the bar, Nate slipped out of the front door and went to stand beside her by the railing. He either had great timing, or he'd been listening to her conversation.

She was willing to bet the latter.

"So?" he asked. "You get fired or anything?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she replied, and he looked visibly relieved to hear it. Huh. Seemed like he really did feel guilty. "Luiz is kinda pissed, but he'll get over it. As long as I replace my camera and promise not to sue the studio for life-threatening working conditions, he's happy."

Nate laughed and leaned against the railing. The bar had a long wrap-around deck, and it sat on a big sandy beach. It was mid-afternoon, and the view was lovely.

"You gonna stick around?" he asked, idly picking at a splinter on the railing.

"For a week or so, probably. Spend some of my cut here and blow off steam, then head back to the US and get to work again."

Nate nodded, feigning nonchalance. He had a terrible poker face, though—he looked pleased at her answer. _Interesting_.

"Well, I still owe you a lost city," he continued. "One with less weird slimy zombies and cursed gold."

She laughed. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

He shrugged and grinned at her. "Oh, lots of options. You pick the continent, and we'll go from there."

"Sounds like a plan, then. But I still need to head home first to buy some new equipment."

He nodded and looked away again. "I really am sorry about your camera."

"Nate, it's okay—"

"I can take you out to lunch, make up for it," he offered. This time he met her eyes. There was his usual suave confidence in place again, as if he already _knew_ she'd say yes.

_He's not wrong._

"Are you asking me out on a date, Nathan Drake?"

He grinned. "It's a date if you say yes."

She raised a brow. "And if I say no?"

"Then I'll have to think of some other way to make it up to you," he replied, voice low. He stepped closer to her, his head blocking out the sun and casting his features in shadow. He suddenly seemed a lot bigger.

She rolled her eyes, which threw him off a bit. "You get that line out of a porno?"

He recovered quickly, though, grinning again. "Oh, so you've seen that one?"

She laughed and grabbed the railing. Her fingers brushed his, and she looked down at their hands. "I guess it's a date, then," she answered. He gave her a shining, contagious smile.

"There is one thing you owe _me,"_ he murmured, and took another step towards her. He was close enough now that she could smell him—hotel soap and pencil lead and paper.

"Oh, really?" If she looked up at him their noses would almost touch. Their height difference was more extreme this close together.

"You were totally going to kiss me before Sully interrupted us," he whispered, breath warm on her cheek.

"Me?" she shot back, looking him right in the eye. "It was _so_ you—"

He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him, making her stumble before she caught herself. His mouth was so close their lips just brushed—a moment for her to pull away if she wanted. Instead, she grabbed onto his shirt and closed what little distance was between them.

It was a good kiss. Their lips fit together well, and his hand was big and warm at the base of her spine. His hair was a good place to twist up her fingers, and he made a pleasant sound in the back of his throat at the contact.

She was dimly aware of someone exiting the bar beside them, but lost focus before she could see the dirty looks they were probably getting. Kissing Nate took a great deal of concentration, with his nose pressed to her cheek and his mouth moving easily over hers.

She breathed in deeply, the smell of him pleasantly filling her nose, and she broke away to look up at him. He had a big grin on his face, and he didn't bother to move his hand away from her back.

"Not bad," he murmured, purposefully casual.

"Not bad?" she repeated, pulling back to look at him. "On a scale of one to ten, what's _not bad?"_

He shrugged, smirk still pulling at his mouth. "Like a five or six, I guess?"

Elena scoffed. "Sounds like you haven't kissed a lot of girls then."

"I'm lowballing you," he explained, smile widening. "Motivating you to up your game and impress me."

She shoved him playfully, laughing. "Is that how you woo girls then, Mr. Drake?"

"Looks like it's working for me right now."

They kissed some more—although they had the decency to move away from the bar door—and Elena decided that spending her week in Costa Rica with someone like Nate was exactly the kind of fun she needed before heading off back to work.

* * *

They hadn't actually gone for lunch—she'd get a rain check on the date of course—and Elena realised afterwards that she'd never gone back inside to drink her coffee.

The kissing had escalated into something heavy enough to be indecent for the secluded back area of the deck outside the bar. She only came to her senses when her hand started to creep under Nate's shirt, and then it had been an extremely uncomfortable walk back up to her room.

Sully had greeted them when they came back in, but—bless his heart—was observant enough not to stop them for further conversation. She'd tugged Nate up the stairs with an insistent hand, the point of contact burning like coal on her skin. Then she'd fumbled open the door, slammed it closed, and used it as a convenient place to continue what they'd started outside.

He was so _warm_ , she thought for the dozenth time, grinding into the thigh he'd pressed between her legs. His hands were under her shirt already, smoothing over the expanse of her back and unhooking her bra with a surprisingly deft flick of his fingers. That boded well, surely?

She let him lead, tilting her head back when his mouth moved to suck at her throat. One of his hands slid away from her back, up her ribs and under her loose bra. Elena sucked in a breath when his rough palm found her nipple, and she responded by slipping a hand down into his back pocket to grab at his ass. There was still too much space between them, and she needed all of him pressed against her _hard. Right. Now._

His other hand went down to snake around her thighs, and she braced herself for him picking her up. She hooked her legs around his waist and took the time to distract him by pressing the exposed skin of her collarbone and chest into his cheek. He let out a hard breath and adjusted his grip on her legs.

"Okay there, cowboy?" She was proud of how easy her words sounded, despite the fact that it was _really fucking hot_ Nate had the strength to just pick her up—even if he looked a little laboured by the feat.

He laughed into her shirt and grinned up at her, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed. _God he looks good._ "More than okay."

He moved them over to the bed and managed to sit down on the edge with Elena still in his arms. With them more properly situated, she continued to kiss him, threading her fingers through his thick hair and rearranging her legs so that she was kneeling over him on the mattress.

Nate resumed his quest to shed her bra, and she untangled herself from him long enough to pull her tank top off and toss away the offending piece of clothing. He made an appreciative hum low in his throat that turned her on with an almost embarrassing intensity. She responded by pressing their hips flush together, which drew out another groan from him and a moan from her.

This is _exactly_ what she needed.

The pace plateaued after their move to the bed, with Nate taking his time to map out her skin with his palms and press kisses all around her throat and collarbone. Which was _good_ , really, but she was surprised by how slow they were moving. Judging by the hard ridge pressed into the cleft of her legs, Nate was more than ready to move past foreplay, and _she_ certainly was. God, she'd been ready the moment they started making out behind the bar, and now all they were doing was delaying the inevitable and making her belly burn with need.

She swept a hand between them, rubbing a hand over him through his pants, and Nate's kiss at her throat turned into a bite and a low growl. _Much better_. His grip on her hips became hard, and he pressed her close against him.

"You have _way_ too many clothes on," she breathed into his ear, rubbing her cheek against his and relishing the burn of stubble on her skin.

He chuckled and sat back enough to pull at the hem of his Henley and tug it off. She took a dazed moment to appreciate the lean muscle and the dark curling hair that started at his chest and disappeared into his jeans before kissing him again. Her bra somehow got tugged off in the mix, and she moaned at the bare contact. His ring was a cool circle tucked between her breasts that made her shiver and press into it, which was sure to leave an indent in her skin.

Nate made an executive decision to switch positions then, and she wholly approved of him shifting to press her down into the mattress. His full weight was carefully suspended above her, delightfully heavy and warm. This also gave her a better angle to slip a hand down his pants after successfully unbuckling his dramatic belt buckle, and his answering moan and shudder made it that much more satisfying.

"'lena," he breathed, rocking into her hand, and _god_ , even the way he said her name turned her on. Nate was torn between following her hand with his hips and tackling the problem of her own pants, before he finally, reluctantly, grabbed at her wrist to still her hand. "Hold—hold on."

She withdrew her palm to instead focus on fishing his wallet out of his other back pocket—an important matter they needed to solve before this went any further. Nate momentarily came out of his haze to frown at her. "Are you trying to steal my wallet?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm assuming you have a condom in there?"

His face flushed an even deeper red. "Oh. Right. Keep going then."

"Wait. _Has_ someone tried to steal your wallet while having sex with you?"

He laughed and shoved the waistband of her jeans and panties down over her hips, making her gasp. "I'll tell you later."

Content with that answer, she fished out his wallet and poked around for a condom—momentarily stopping to appreciate how poorly _faked_ his current photo ID looked. Elena tossed the wallet down beside the bed once she'd found what she was looking for _and_ confirming the expiration date on the packet was still far in the future.

Her jeans were down to her shins now thanks to Nate, and she hurriedly kicked them off, then whined when he was still wearing his. "Get those _off."_

"Impatient," he mumbled into her shoulder, but obliged.

" _Horny,"_ she corrected as she helped him with his pants, and his laughter rumbled deep in his chest.

When he kicked off his last article of clothing and pressed against her, _finally_ unrestricted, she arched up into him with a sharp intake of breath. _Almost there._

"Condom," she muttered, trying to rip open the package. Her fingers were trembling a little with excitement— _Jesus, calm down_ —and Nate assisted her in taking it out of the package. He groaned and shivered when she rolled it on him.

_Finally,_ she thought, and rubbed her hips into his. He moaned again and nipped at her ear, but didn't press into her. Instead he slid a hand down her side and smoothed it over her belly, slipping down between her legs. She parted her thighs further to give him more room for whatever he was doing, pressing eagerly into the contact. His thumb found her clitoris— _another very good sign—_ and his index and middle finger brushed down to slide inside her.

"Oh god, you're so warm." His voice was low and rough, and he spared no time working his fingers over and inside her. She arched up into his palm, feeling her breath come out in small gasps when he rubbed his thumb against her clit in smooth circles.

Remembering him when she felt him hard against her leg, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, idly wondering if they did need a condom after all. He hummed his approval, but stopped her almost immediately with a shaky hand.

She touched his cheek, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just—hold on," he said, not letting up with his other hand. She was more than happy to let him continue, and let her arm fall back to the bed; her legs fell loosely to the sides, her hips rocking up with the movement of his fingers. Her nails dug hard into the skin of his shoulders, and she sighed words of encouragement against the crook of his neck.

It didn't take long until she felt the pulsing burn between her legs reach an almost uncomfortable high—no time at all really, but she was hardly complaining.

"Nate," she rasped, arching up to press her whole body into him with each stroke of his hand now. "Oh, Nate, I'm _close."_

His own breathing was laboured, hot next to her ear, but her words prompted him to withdraw his fingers—and garner an immediate, undignified whine from her.

She bit his earlobe, which was conveniently within reach. "Hey," she breathed, insistent, then realised what his plan was when he pushed himself up on his arms above her. Elena grabbed a hold of his cock instead of telling him to continue, which forced a strangled breath from Nate, and positioned him right above the cleft of her thighs.

Nate thrust inside with one smooth stroke that had them both crying out. Elena hiked her legs up over his waist and arched up to meet the rhythmic roll of his hips, then reached for his neck to draw him down for a kiss. It was soft and sweet until she bit at his bottom lip, a silent urge for him to pick up the pace. A lovely, desperate sound rumbled at the base of his throat before he rolled his hips hard into her. She gasped into his mouth, urging him not to stop, _god_ don't stop, and then it was a quick, wonderful tumble towards completion for her.

She clung to him, shaking and shuddering and gasping into his skin as she felt her body pulse around him, and he followed her not long after. Nate shook and groaned in turn, his final movements sending pleasant shocks down her spine, before he settled heavily against her.

Elena let them both recover for a moment, breathing harshly into each other, before his weight became an issue, and she tapped him on the shoulder with a lazy finger. He groaned and rolled next to her on the mattress, still not quite able to catch his breath.

She huffed and shimmied closer to him. "Move over a little," she insisted. "My side is all sweaty."

He laughed and shifted over until they were both on dry land. He pulled her head in to rest on his shoulder, and she was quietly pleased that they fit together so easily.

Elena drifted in and out of coherent thought while they both recovered. It was hot even with the window blowing in a tepid evening breeze, but Nate's fingers trailing soft circles on her arm and her head resting on his shoulder was nice enough to endure the sticky heat.

"So—still gonna lowball me?" She broke the silence with an amused question. Her mouth brushed the skin of his shoulder when she spoke, lazy and soft.

"What?"

Elena suppressed a laugh at how dazed he sounded. "You told me my kissing was 'not bad'." She sat up on one elbow to look at him. He smiled up at her with heavy eyes. "What's the score on the rest of it?"

"Oh." His brows drew together as he considered her question. She took the time to wipe at her mouth, which was red and sensitive from stubble burn. "Um. Good. Very good." Then he regained some of his composure and tossed her a cheeky grin. "But we'll have to repeat a few more times for me to settle on a real score."

"Mmm," she hummed, very much liking the sound of that. "I _guess."_

"You guess?"

She gave him a one-shoulder shrug. "I've had better." It was hard to feign nonchalance when her legs were still tingling from occasional aftershocks and her eyes were heavy with languorous satisfaction, but she wasn't about to just stroke Nate's ego.

It was his turn to scoff. "Seemed to be pretty pleased to me."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty." She settled back down on his shoulder. "I can better critique your moves now that I'm not so turned on."

"So you're still turned on then?" His hand slipped from her arm to her hip, and he used the leverage to hug her closer into his side.

She curled a leg around his thigh. "Mostly just sleepy at the moment." A yawn interrupted her speech, as if to verify her claim. "But give it an hour or so and we'll see."

They snuggled deeper into the mess of blankets and pillows that littered her bed, content enough in their closeness to ignore the evening heat. Nate went back to running his fingers over her skin, and Elena settled on smoothing her palm over the dark hair on his abdomen and chest. She had to fight to keep the goofy smile that made her cheeks sore—sleeping with Nate had been an excellent judgement call, and she more than looked forward to doing so again right up until she had to fly back to the States.

_And maybe even continuing up there._ She wasn't quite sure if this would turn into anything significant, but worst came to worst he was a good lay and a great way to spend up the last of her vacation days.

Nate groaned then and nudged her off him for a moment. "Just gotta clean up," he muttered, and slid off the mattress with a dramatic huff. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, where she could hear tap water running. She should probably get up and pee and get cleaned up herself, but she was far too content to sprawl out on the big mattress.

Nate then reappeared, slipping back into bed beside her and immediately pulling her back into his side.

"So," Nate began, pressing his nose into her hair once they were settled again. "Do I at least stack up from your last lay?"

She grinned. Seemed her flippant comments had gotten under his skin—good. It was _extremely_ fun teasing him. "It's been a while, but I'd say so, yeah."

"What's a while?"

She frowned. "A few months I think? Can't remember the exact date. Travelling and work don't always leave room for getting laid." She snuck a peek at him. "Why? How long's it been for you?"

There was that smug _I win_ look. "Like a few weeks."

"Oh-ho, mister swagger over here." She poked him in the ribs and was satisfied when his skin jumped from the contact. "Who was the unfortunate soul?"

She didn't get the expected snarky response—in fact, she didn't get _any._ When she looked up at him, his easy grin was replaced with something forlorn and sad.

She sat up, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Eddy's dead."

_He slept with Eddy…?_ "Raja? Like that guy that tried to kill us?"

"It's just—his sister." His words were stilted, like he couldn't figure out how to get his thoughts out. "Rika. She'll need to know that he's dead."

Ah, that's what triggered this, then. "She's unfortunate soul in question, I'm guessing. Unless you _did_ have a romp with Eddy." Which was unlikely, given how much Eddy seemed to hate him. Though she supposed a lover scorned was also a possible scenario, and _that_ she didn't have much trouble believing, given how much Nate liked to run his mouth and, well, _con_ people.

He gave her a dirty look before nodding. "Yeah—I mean yes, Rika. If she wasn't fond of me before, telling her her brother's dead won't help."

She patted his chest, pulling away from amused thoughts of Nate twining up in the sheets with Eddy Raja. "Still not your fault. Though I'm not sure if she'll believe we were attacked by zombies."

He grinned weakly at that. "Dunno. We saw some pretty weird shit on our last job."

"So is this like a regular occurrence for you then?" She combed her hair out of her face, deciding that she needed another shower. Preferably with Nate. "Maybe I'll find someone else to fund my next episode." Nate looked actually hurt by her comment, frowning up at her with very distracting puppy eyes. "I'm _joking_ , don't worry." Her hand found his under the covers and he squeezed her fingers. "I'm not letting you off the hook for a debt so easily."

He sat up and pulled her close, pressing a warm kiss to her mouth. "Good," he whispered into her skin. "I can use the time to give you a proper score."

She snickered. "I'm so lucky." Then her stomach rumbled, and she laughed. " _After_ some lunch though. And a shower."

"Mmm," he hummed, a playful spark in his eyes. "Excellent plan."

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on [tumblr](https://el-goddamn-dorado.tumblr.com/) if you're into that. I spend way too much time on that hellsite.


End file.
